Everything Will Be
by the bunny and the starfish
Summary: But when today is yesterday, I sit and think about all my friends and how good they are. But I know that the memories won't go too far. I know that things won't stay the same. Lessons taught and lessons learned. Round and round the world will turn.
1. Forgiven

_And you can't see past the blood on my hands  
To see that you've been aptly damned to fail and fail again  
'Cause we're all guilty of the same things  
We think the thoughts, whether or not we see them through  
And I know that I have been forgiven  
And I just hope you can forgive me too_

_-Relient K, Forgiven_

Chapter 1

Hermione Granger knelt in the pool of red blood. As it sloshed with her weight, she could almost feel the self-loathing and regret with which it was spilt. The feelings nearly knocked her down they were so apparent. It would have been welcome. She knew she should be feeling some sort of emotion: triumph, exhaustion, pain, anything. Hermione only felt emptiness.

Lord Voldemort had been defeated. The Light had conquered the Dark. She wasn't sure how many fatalities there had been. At the moment, she didn't want to know. She preferred the numb, hollow feeling in her chest to the ripping pain of loss.

Harry had just come to tell her and Ron everything from the memories, how Dumbledore's death had been planned, how Snape was really a spy, and how he had spent his entire life playing puppet and protecting people he didn't even love. All for the sake of repentance for one sin.

This man confused her. Hermione knew he was the most brilliant man she had ever known, which was what made it so hard to comprehend that he had done absolutely _nothing _to prevent his death. She knew a man such as Severus Snape would not go down without a fight. He must have seen this coming, he must have known. A man such as he must have been prepared.

She examined his face even before checking for signs of life. When she first walked into the Shrieking Shack, battered and bloodied herself, her breath caught. It seemed that while a teacher at Hogwarts, he had placed glamour charms upon himself. Now that he was incapable of reviving them, they had worn off. His nose no longer looked so beakish, merely a larger-than-average nose, broken several times like Albus Dumbledore's. His face was so relaxed, the harsh lines of his scowl gone. The pale skin was smooth, almost porcelain like. His black eyes, which stared into the ceiling, seeing nothing. The contrast between them and his skin was shocking, but somehow so elegant. Hermione could hardly find anything unattractive about him.

It was then she took in the mass of blood around him. In a vain attempt, she fell to the floor, fumbling to check his pulse. For the second time she stepped into the threshold, her breath caught. It was there, so light and irregular it was barely even there. It surprised her greatly, but was thankful that her intuition had proved correct.

She whipped her broken fingers into her pocket, fingering for the Blood-Replenishing potion she had instinctively packed when she came her. She jammed it into his mouth, ignoring the light breath she felt on her hand. She resisted the urge to throw up as more blood gushed from his wound, fresh blood as its victim.

Her hands clamped down hard on the wound. She heard the ghost of a wince, but all she could think about was stopping the blood. _Pressure. Keep pressure_. A summer at babysitting camp had taught her how to deal with gushing wounds. She never thought it would actually come in handy.

She was murmuring softly, keeping her persistence up was taking a rather large part of her will, and talking to herself was a tactic she used. Anyone listening would have heard the murmurs of, "Such a waste. Brilliant man. Deserved better." No one, however, was there to hear her.

Her left hand still clamped onto the gash, she pulled the large vial of Anti-Venom from her same pocket, shoving every last drop into his slack mouth. It seemed to take effect, as the blood from his neck continued to run, so did a horrible green, goo-like substance which she deduced was the venom from Nagini's bite.

It was like watching two people struggle to scale a cliff. One was sturdy, trying desperately to hold the hand of the one who was falling. Hermione was sturdy, trying desperately to bring Severus Snape back from death. He seemed to be fighting desperately to stay dead.

It seemed an age before the wound's flow slowed, but by then, Hermione was so exhausted, she could only slump down into the blood. Her empty stomach threatened to retch at the feel of the liquid seeping into her clothes and hair, but she managed.

With her last ounce of hope and courage, she levitated him out of the Shrieking Shack and through the tunnel, barely making it past the Whomping Willow. She took a few thumps for the both of them, adding to her pain. She gritted her teeth and pushed on. It was like the summer all over again.

Hogwarts front doors seemed to sense her frantic presence and they groaned their way open. She stumbled in through them, struggling to keep the man levitated. The hallway seemed conveniently empty, forcing her to go the entire way to the hospital wing.

Poppy Pomfrey gasped in shock at her. The blood was matted in her hair, clothes, and stained her skin. The bruises and gashes were angry and burned with the ache of using her magic, when all she wanted to do was sleep.

The curvaceous woman rushed to her assistance in the nick of time. She grabbed Snape just as Hermione crumpled to the ground, her magic finally giving way after so many hours of fighting.

After Madame Pomfrey had Snape in bed, she rushed to help Hermione, who was breathing heavily on the floor. She groaned in pain when the hospital matron levitated her to her own bed.

She showered Hermione; and the blood of her comrades, Snapes, and her own clogged the drain and prevented the diagnosis of her injuries. The porcelain shower would be permanently stained an odd-rust color, no matter the amount of cleaning charms put on it. It would remain as a reminder of the night Hermione had tried so hard.

Hermione herself hadn't had any treatment since the sixth year summer at the Burrow. She had to grit her teeth against the gashes she had gotten on her hunt for Horcruxes with her two favorite men in the whole world. And now, they all seemed to split open into fresh, new wounds as Madam Pomfrey struggled to treat them all.

Of all the students that had arrived after the Final Battle, Hermione Granger was by far one of the worst, save for those who had battled and nearly lost their lives. True to her Gryffindor nature, she had selflessly taken multiple curses and slashes that weren't meant for her. She had fought valiantly, destroying the third to last Horcrux all by herself.

Poppy Pomfrey managed to treat every one of her injuries, scarring guaranteed. You could tell most of them would pucker and cause future pain, but fortunately her bones healed relatively quickly after one or two doses of Skele-Gro. The girl hardly registered the taste, and her normally expressive brown eyes seemed vacant.

Exhaustion finally overtook the valiant Gryffindor, and she could at last sleep.


	2. Maintain Conciousness

_"To keep our eyes open,  
For just one more day  
To keep on hoping,  
That we'll stumble on a way  
To keep our minds open,  
For just one more day  
'Cause it's completely up to us  
To maintain consciousness."_

_-Relient K, Maintain Consciousness_

Chapter 2

Hermione awoke with a groan. The stiffness that constricted her body to the point of paralyzation seemed to cause more pain than the injuries themselves. Her noise awoke Poppy Pomfrey as well as the two boys sitting next to her.

"Hermione!" Ron bellowed, happy and surprised at his friend's sudden consciousness. She flinched and her hands instinctively went to her ears to cover out the harsh sound. Her head hurt badly enough and she didn't need an extremely annoying red head screaming in her ears.

"Ronald," she rasped. It was all her sore throat could muster. Harry looked incredibly concerned.

"Hermione. We didn't see you for a while, so we went to look for you. We…couldn't find you so we came back. And then Madam Pomfrey came and got us and we saw you and…Snape," he seemed to be struggling with what to call him. She almost smirked at his childhood bias, but the stiffness prevented her. She got mad and strained to talk.

At the sound of her strangled cry, Harry rushed and patted around her helplessly, trying to ease the extent of her injuries. He could do nothing.

She shook her head, trying to tell him without speaking that she didn't need his fumbling help. It only made her feel more helpless, something she literally _hated._

Harry smiled weakly and said, "I was worried about you, Hermione." The edges of her mouth ached with her smile, but seeing Harry's face light up was worth the effort. He was so easy to please, and so ridiculously loyal.

Ron had his feet propped up on her bed, and was snoring softly now. He seemed to be satisfied she was alright. That his duty was done. She glared at him, and stared questioningly at the green-eyed man. She wanted desperately to be mad at him for abandoning her, but she couldn't at the moment. He just looked so amazingly _young_ at that moment.

He smiled apologetically, "Sorry 'bout him, 'Mione. He's exhausted from the battle. Fred…you know. It was a blow." She felt the tears well up in her eyes. The pain she expected had come, and for an odd moment it was welcome. It reminded her she was alive. She looked at him pleadingly, and with silent communication, he understood.

"Professor Lupin, Tonks, and Colin Creevy. Snape of course, but he was…rescued," he seemed to struggle for a moment for the right word before speaking again, this time choking on his words, "Others too, but those are the ones that you knew." The tears spilt over onto her cheeks. Harry held her hand feebly.

"I know 'Mione, I know. I'm so sorry. I wish I had been faster. I am sorry," the tears welled up in his bright green eyes, the remorse shared between them both. She couldn't honestly believe that the boy who had saved the future of the world was feeling _sorry. _She couldn't wrap her brilliant mid around that.

She squeezed his hand in reassurance and they shared the tears together. The pain of their losses ripping through them. It would become a familiar routine with in the weeks to come.

Their sniffles and choked sobs awoke the sleeping red head, which took one look at the pair of them and started crying too. Their arms were around each other, protecting each other, healing each other. The reassurance was needed.

Harry spoke first, his voice croaking, "I think it will be a while before we'll be over this."

The remaining two nodded in agreement, and Hermione spoke, ignoring the pain in her throat, "What do we do now?"

Harry smiled at her, and it was a smile of revival, of rebirth. It gave her hope, "We start over."

Hermione cocked her head in puzzlement, "What do you mean?" The thought of starting over after such an epidemic seemed impossible.

His smile grew, the promise of a bright future shining through his tears, "It means we get a job at the Ministry. Kingsley is the new Minister you know. He said he'd hire Ron and I for Auror training and we won't even have to finish our last year at Hogwarts!" He blushed then, "Of course, I'll be visiting Ginny."

Ron held Hermione's hand and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in her direction. She could have sworn she felt the bile rise up in her throat, but she dismissed it as the effects of the potion. She loved Ron.

She smiled at him, the corners of her mouth no longer aching as they did before, "That's bloody brilliant Harry! You and Ron'll be…perfect for that job."

Harry's question was answered before it was even spoken. Hermione and he had a connection that defied normal friendships. "I was planning on finishing my year at Hogwarts, and then I want to go to a University where I can major in Charms or DADA or something. Then I want to come back here and teach."

Harry smile nearly took up his entire face, "That sounds amazing, Hermione. You'll make a fantastic teacher!"

His happiness was contagious, and the grief of loosing their loved ones no longer seemed so great, "Thanks, Harry."

Ron however looked murderous, "Bloody hell Hermione! You could have a job at the bloody Ministry and you want to be a _teacher?!?!"_

She was taken aback, "Yes. Of course I do." She had absolutely no idea what he could mean. A teacher was a job she thought would be perfect for her.

He shook his head in confusion, "But everything could just be given to you."

Her eyes flared, "Unlike you Ronald, I do not like everything to be _given _to me." The thought was utterly ridiculous. What was life without hard work and success? It had to be the greatest satisfaction she had ever gotten, destroying the last Horcrux after all the hardships they had faced.

The muscles in his jaw clenched and he stood up, before storming out of the Hospital Wing, causing Madam Pomfrey to flutter about angrily.

Harry turned back to her and rubbed her shoulder. He quickly withdrew with her wince, "Sorry," he mumbled. She sensed he was apologizing for more than just hurting her arm.

She tried to smile, this time, failing miserably. He seemed to sense it, and just held her hand. "Ron'll come around, you'll see. You two were made for each other. I just know it."

Hermione Granger had the sinking feeling that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, was wrong


	3. Bite My Tongue

_"I'm sweeping up the seconds  
That tick off the clock  
Save them all for later  
When I'm too ticked to talk  
And I need some time  
To search my mind  
To locate the words  
That seem so hard to find."_

_-Relient K, Bite My Tongue_

**Chapter 3**

She was right.

Ron had stormed out of the Hospital Wing a moment ago, infuriated by her refusal to his hand. She was in a bloody hospital! She didn't bloody feel well! And this wasn't bloody helping her! She had told him, finally exasperated with his immaturity.

"But 'Mione," he had pleaded, widening his eyes as if desperate. For a moment, however, she had thought she saw relief. It vanished as quick as it was there.

"Ronald Billius Weasley," she started out, her voice returning to the normal, stern tone it took when it came to him, "You are not marrying me out of love. You are marrying me because you are worried about your life. You don't think you have enough time." It was true for Hermione as well, but she was far too logical for something like that to dominate her life.

His face fell, but not with rejection or hate. It fell with liberation. The smile that broke out on his boyish face was not one he was expecting. She had braced herself for loud yells and bellows, but all that came was a deep exhale of breath.

"You know 'Mione. I was really worried there you would actually agree with me! I mean, Mum has been trying to get me to propose to you for weeks, but there's been something on my mind for a while," he murmured, no longer holding her hand as he had been a moment ago. He looked embarrassed, and his face was turning pink. It was something she once loved about him. Her curiosity however, overwhelmed any other feeling at that time

"I've actually thought about how to tell you this," he said, attempting to kid around with her. She took the bait. It was familiar banter for both of them, much more comfortable than all this romantic planning.

"Really? That's quite astonishing Ronald. Is that a first?" She smirked at him, realizing exactly what he was about to say. She literally could not wait for the words to leave his mouth,

He smiled brightly now, "I just wanted to tell you that I love you," her face fell, she had hoped that wasn't what he wanted to say. Nevertheless, he continued, "But not in the way you think. I love you like a sister, like my best friend. My time away from you and Harry during the summer made me realize it, but I didn't have the courage to tell you at first." He looked astonishingly ashamed, but she felt like a great weight had been taken off her chest.

She patted his arm affectionately before adding her own piece, "I'm ruddy thankful you said that. I was worried I would have to tell you. I didn't because I was afraid that your family would either disown me, or you would hate me. I didn't want that."

He shook his head, as if the possibility shocked him, "Never, 'Mione. We all love you like our own. And honestly, my bark is worse than my bite!" He winked goofily and she laughed, feeling better than she had since sixth year.

"No hard feelings then?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. He really was quite endearing if you got over the whole I'm-a-bloody-annoying-boy thing. He was probably never going to fully grow up, but she looked forward to watching him attempt it…as his best friend nonetheless.

She shook her head, "None whatsoever. Now, I need sleep, and you need to pretend to be very angry. And I leave you to Molly." She laughed again when he groaned falsely. "What will you tell her?" Hermione asked, suddenly worried at being excluded from her favorite family in the entire world.

He thought a moment before answering, "The truth. And not to worry, I'll make sure you don't get disowned or anything stupid like that." His loyalty was reassuring her nerves.

She felt her lungs fill fully with air, her ribs protesting. She didn't care. She was so happy. Everything had gone _right,_ "Thank you, Ron. I highly doubt I'll ever be more thankful towards you."

He smiled and leaned down to give her a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. It was all welcome, and clearly had no romantic feelings attached. "Same here, 'Mione." He started walking, slowly almost reluctantly. He did, after all, have one more very important question to ask her.

He turned right before he opened the door, "Will I see you at Grimwauld Place? Harry and I are staying there for Auror training: it's close to the Ministry and all, and we want you to be there with us."

She smiled brightly, showing all of her straight teeth, "Most definitely. Just don't forget that I'm staying at Hogwarts for another year… I can easily visit you both there. I'll talk to McGonagall today and we'll work things out."

He nodded, "Sorry 'bout that by the way. I had to set us up for…you know." He looked apologetic, but she waved him off.

"Now get you slimy boy!" She said, and laughed as he looked offended, and stormed theatrically out of the Hospital Wing.

Hermione Granger lay back down on her hospital bed, feeling two emotions: impatience and gratefulness. Obviously, she was grateful towards Ron. She had realized the day before when he had flirted with her that they were not meant to be, and true to her nature, she was going to remedy it as soon as possible. He had taken away that responsibility away from her.

And then she was impatient. She was impatient to get out of the hospital bed. She ached to be on her feet again, to be reunited with her friends and family. But the doctor's orders were strict, stay down until you're ready. She was sure she was ready now.

She was also impatient for the consciousness of her hospital friend, the man she had rescued. Every now and then, she would hear a groan from his thin lips, but it would disappear. Poppy fretted over the two of them constantly, and whenever Hermione asked about his condition, she always got the same answer.

"He's as fine as he'll ever be," or "He'll wake when his body is ready." Wasn't three days enough time? More than that wasn't three days more than enough time for the both of them?

She decided she had had enough. She was getting up, showering, getting presentable, and going out into the hallways. She had a celebration to attend.

She struggled for a moment. Moving her legs was proving very difficult. Pins and needles of pain shot through them at her jerky, unpracticed movements. She grunted and used her weak arms to pull her self up, before swinging her feet off the bed. Her noise brought Madam Pomfrey bustling towards her.

"Hermione! What the devil are you doing?" She asked shock blatant in her features.

The girl in question was sweating with effort now, the pain in her legs transforming from pins and needles to swords and knives. She spoke through gritted teeth, "Getting up and taking a shower."

Pomfrey shook her head, and tutted her tongue, "Not now Miss Granger. You are still not healed."

Hermione lost it then, her skin boiling with pent up frustration and anger, "Then give me the strongest potion you have and put me in a coma 'till I'm better. I can't stand just…laying here!" With her flailing arms and static hair, she looked like someone from an insane asylum.

The Healer pursed her lips for a moment before nodding, "Very well. It seems I had forgotten how restless young, strong souls can be. I shall get you the potion, and you will be internally and externally healed within the next 24 hours."

Hermione nodded, thankful again, "Wonderful Madam Pomfrey! Thank you so much!" She gushed, smiling ridiculously, looking forward to getting the potion. The kind lady nodded and bustled out of the room again, leaving her to get back in the bed and get comfortable for her long nap.

The maid returned momentarily, before handing her a green bottle and saying gruffly, "Drink all of this." Hermione downed it in one gulp, all too eager to be free of the bed and her injuries.

The potion affected her almost immediately. Her eyelids drooped and she the bottle slid from her tired hand. Sleep overcame her in the next moment.


	4. Be My Escape

_"And I've been dying to get out and that might be the death of me  
And even though, there's no way in knowing where to go, promise I'm going because  
I gotta get outta here  
I'm stuck inside this rut that I fell into by mistake  
I gotta get outta here __ And I'm begging you,_

_I'm begging you, _

_I'm begging you to be my escape."_

_-Relient K, Be My Escape_

Chapter 4

When the young girl awoke, she had no pain. All the aches and creaks seemed to disappear from her joints, bones, and muscles, and she felt like she could run a mile. She lacked the exhaustion she had been expecting. She cleared her throat and Madam Pomfrey came over, smiling.

"It's wonderful to see you up, my dear. You may get up and shower if you wish. Just please let me run the last few tests. It is standard procedure before I can release you," her old, kind face wrinkled with pleasure as Hermione patiently put up with every of her demands. "Breath deeply, scoot forward, roll over, does this hurt?" It was the usual. She passed every test. She hadn't broken her record so far, and she would be damned if a few reflex tests would end it.

Madam Pomfrey was happy with the results and she released her from the Hospital Wing, sending her into the showers with her Muggle clothes. Hermione could never have been more thankful for her old, baggy sweatshirt and her soft, but formfitting jeans. She scrubbed her body again, trying to scrub the oil from sitting for three days off her skin. She tried not to notice the pink, puckered raised lines that covered her once blemish-free skin. Seeing them was like seeing ugly, but expensive and admirable badges of honor. They would serve as a permanent reminder of her past and her sacrifices.

When she got out, she looked positively radiant, despite the scars she had hidden so well. Her skin once again held a healthy glow, her hair shone, and her eyes were clear. She thanked the hospital maid one last time and left without a backward glance.

The first place she was headed was the Gryffindor Common Room, knowing she'd find Ron and Harry there. Sure enough, her two best friends were waiting. She giggled when they attacked her with hugs and praise of how good she looked upright. It was good to be back where she belonged.

"So tell me boys. What's been going on since I've been incapacitated?" she asked teasingly, her light brown eyes light and carefree for the first time in a long time. They were all happy to see her back to her normal Hermione.

"Well… There's been a lot of hugging and crying. But also laughing and smiling. It's very weird. Almost like people can't understand what they're feeling," Ron said, looking confused. Hermione laughed again, emotions had never been his strong point.

"Oh Lord, Ron, we just had a _war _for Heaven's sake! Of course people are in a state of emotional distress! You would too if you could actually feel something," she said, rolling her eyes. Harry snickered.

"Now tell me from your point of view, Harry. Perhaps I'll get a better answer out of you," she said, turning to her other best friend. His green-eyed gaze was very pleasant, and very, very relieved.

"Well. McGonagall's Headmistress again, and they've got a Potions position open, currently anyway. I hear they're holding off the job offers 'till they know what's going on with Snape. There's going to be a celebratory ball in a few weeks, you need to get a date by the way, and that's about it. There are…funerals and memorial services being arranged, so you'll need to get something to wear, and a date. You haven't really missed much 'Mione. No worries," he said, filling her in on the practical things: the things she wanted to hear about.

"Thanks, Harry. Ronald. I think I'm going to talk to Professor McGonagall for a minute. I'll see you two at dinner," she kissed both on the cheek and walked to the Head Girl room, where she knew her clothes would be. She changed quickly into something more professional: a white, button up shirt, and her Gryffindor sweater vest over it. She couldn't bring herself to take off her favorite jeans.

Hermione Granger walked proudly through the corridors, her head held high. She head the whispers of awe and the fingers being pointed at her. She couldn't resist a giggle at the irony: normally they would be fingers pointing to tease, now they were fingers pointing to be in reverence.

She reached the statue and politely asked, "May I go up to see Professor McGonagall. I have something I wish to speak to her about." The statue groaned and welcomed her into the study, which was furnished differently than when Dumbledore was in charge. It now had a homier feel to it, with warmer colors and a very comfy looking chair. There was a stained glass window behind the Headmistresses chair of a rearing lion. Hermione smiled: nothing fit the fiery woman better.

She arrived a moment later, in her classic tartan cloak, "Oh goodness, Hermione! There you are! I'm so glad to see you up! I was just coming to visit you, but you beat me to it!" Hermione smiled and hugged the professor, who stood shocked for a moment, before returning the affection.

"I couldn't wait to talk to you Professor. I only waited to talk to Harry and Ron and then I came straight here. I…erm…was wondering if I could discuss something?" Her brown eyes were impossibly hopeful, and anyone in their right might couldn't have turned her down.

"Of course, of course!" McGonagall exclaimed as she ushered her to the red sofa in front of the roaring fire. She summoned two teas and motioned for Hermione to sit.

Hermione spoke first, "Professor, as you well know, I didn't finish my N.E. last year since I was…away. I would like your permission to finish them and hopefully return here to teach," she spoke the last part in a rush, fearing her favorite professor's reaction momentarily. Her worries were calmed however, when the dear lady smiled happily.

"That's wonderful, Hermione, though I hardly think you need your N.E. to get into a University. I'm fairly certain any one of them would be honored to have you as their student. And as to the matter of your teaching credential, I believe I could arrange for any one of our professors to take you on as an apprentice. You could receive it that way if you wished," Minerva McGonagall was very pleased with her young Gryffindor. Though she'd never admit it to anyone but herself and the other teachers, she had had a soft spot for Hermione Granger the first moment she had walked through the opening gates of Hogwarts.

The young girls eyes lit up and she resisted the urge to hug the woman in front of her again, "Professor! That would be wonderful!" She gushed every word, literally too excited for her own good.

"Goodness gracious my dear! Never have I seen anyone so happy," McGonagall got out of her chair and retrieved a packet from her desk. It wasn't an extremely large packet, but it was heavy with stiff parchment.

"This is your contract. Read and sign away. It requires you take your N.E. and courses, but other than that you are free to become an apprentice of your choosing. It is based on your Masters, so once you decide that, you decide who you're apprenticing!" McGonagall finished with a flourish of her bony, arthritic hand. Hermione giggled at the shocking difference between the severe, hair-in-a-tight-bun, and the one standing before her, speaking with fire and life. One thought entered her mind. _War changes people_.

"Can I sign it now, Professor?" Hermione asked delicately, wanting to wring her hands in apprehension. The thick parchment was clutched between them, and she couldn't seem to get it to bend the way she wanted.

The professor looked momentarily taken aback and chose her words very carefully, "You are certain a teaching profession here is one you want? It means long hours during the year, but it will also be very rewarding. I only want you to sign that contract if you are certain Miss Gr-Hermione." She slipped up only because she felt like she was lecturing the poor girl.

Hermione stood proudly up to her full height and said with a voice that left no room for argument, "I'm positive, Professor. There's nothing I would rather do in my life than be a teacher here."

McGonagall smiled, relieving the tension in the room, "Very well then, Hermione," she Summoned a quill and ink block, "Sign away."

Hermione nearly grabbed the pen from the gentle hands that held it and signed quickly, not knowing that in the next four years, that signing would change her life drastically.


End file.
